Jock Rule (Jock Hard #2)(12)

A curt nod. “You do what you gotta do.”

Me: Outside

A few minutes slowly tick by before Mariah replies: Outside where?

Me: The party.

Mariah: I left.

What does she mean, she left? Without telling me?

Me: Where are you?

Mariah: I left like, an hour ago?

Me: Why didn’t you tell me???

Mariah: You were busy filling beer cups and stuff.

Me: No, I wasn’t. I’ve been waiting for you all night. I didn’t even want to be here.

Mariah: Whatever. The point is, I’ll be home in 20. Right now we’re at some guy Lance’s house and then I’m bringing him home.

Me: What am I supposed to do while you have some guy in our apartment?

Mariah and I share a room because we pay our own rent, live in a one-bedroom, and can’t afford anything bigger. It sucks, but at least we have our own place and don’t have to live in the traditional dorms—or one of those horrible off-campus rental houses infested with bats and outdated everything.

I grew up living like that; I’m not doing it anymore.

Mariah: It’s not a big deal, Teddy—just stay out on the couch.

Me: And listen to sex noises all night?

Mariah: I mean…don’t you have those noise-canceling headphones?

Mariah: Shit, GTG. See you in like, half hour. K bye.

There is no way I can spend the night at home if she has a guy there! No freaking way do I want to listen to them banging all night—Mariah is stupidly loud when she has sex, I don’t think I could stand her bringing someone home tonight. She thinks being loud is a huge turn-on for guys, but really it sounds fake and porny, and I can’t believe she’d bring someone home without discussing it with me first.

That’s always been our rule: before bringing home guests, male or female, give the other roomie a heads-up first.

My brows furrow, dipping deep, creasing my forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I spit it out in the way girls do when they’re pissed but don’t want to admit it.

A snort. “Is it really nothing? Or are you doing that thing girls do where they say it’s nothing when it’s actually something, and deep down inside you’re pissed off and want to explode?”

I can’t help it—I laugh because he’s right. It is something, and I am kind of pissed.

“My roommate left an hour ago, went to a guy’s house, and didn’t tell me.” I give him the abbreviated version. He doesn’t need to know there is going to be a dude in my room having sex with my roommate in less than an hour.

“Well let’s get you home then.”

I wave him off with a sigh. “I can’t go home. She’s bringing the guy back to our place.”

He glances toward the rugby house, gives his beard a few strokes. “So?”

“She and I…share a bedroom.”

“Well shit.” His drawl drags out, and this time he does sound like a hillbilly. It sounds like he’s saying whale sheet. “That ain’t cool.”

No, it’s really not. Mariah knows I won’t want to be in the apartment with a strange guy there. She knows this and yet she’s doing it anyway instead of staying at his place. Or asking me first.

“It’s fine. I’ll sleep on the floor in the hall outside our apartment.”

Fluorescent lights. A stiff couch thousands of people have sat on. Probably a student or two or fifty will see me sleeping there and think I’m a loser.

Awesome.

The guy’s chuckle is deep, vibrating deep in his broad chest. He’s thoroughly amused. “You’re not sleeping in the GD hallway.”

“The GD what?”

“God damn.”

The amused look on his bushy face turns to unexpected irritation, making me laugh despite myself and the circumstances, one of my shoulders shrugging. Pulling at the wet dress plastered to my chest, sending a cool shiver down my spine.

I hug myself, rubbing at my upper arms. Shiver. “It’s not like I’ve never done it before. It’s only one night, and I can take a nap tomorrow.”

“No. Fuck that.” He runs a hand through his hair, fiddling with the rubber band holding it back. Yanks it out, pulling it loose and shaking out his hair.

It’s a lion’s mane, hitting just below his shoulders, wild and tangled and beautiful. A beautiful mess.

With two hands, he scoops it back up, twisting it into a knot, the black rubber band looping around the strands as he mumbles, “Your friends are assholes, I swear to fucking God. Why do you put up with their shit?”

I allow my mouth to fall open, because honestly? This night has gone to complete shit.

“Please don’t start with that again. You don’t know them—or me.”

“I know enough. They’ve ditched you three weekends in a row. If those were my friends, I would have told them to fuck off by now.”

“Just like that?”

“Yup.” His nod is terse. “Just like that.”

“I’m not you—I’m not a barbarian, I can’t just…” I wave my hand in the air aimlessly, searching for words. “I can’t.”

He turns his broad back, starting toward the stairs leading down into the yard, long strides taking them one at a time. When he glances back at me, he says, “Are you coming with me or not?” I hesitate, one foot inching forward. “Yes or no?”